


she who laughs last

by insight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s11e18 coda, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insight/pseuds/insight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean meets Amara in the warehouse and they talk about Castiel (11x18 coda).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean watches the foreign twist of Cas' features and is taken aback by it.

He is aghast at the mockery and the-- the _neediness_ reflected in Lucifer's darkly laughing expression.

Afterwards, when Dean is gathering up clinking beer bottles with Sam in the Bunker, he finds himself going hot all over at the thought of it: that the Biggest Bad to Ever Bad knows all about Dean's _neediness_. Then again Dean's always known that family is the most important thing to him and Cas _is_ family...it's just now that Dean knows all the bottom-feeding nasties are just as acutely aware of this as Dean is.

Dean lies in bed that night and thinks about how Cas has given up on his-self, Heaven, the world. 

Very small-ly, Dean thinks of how Cas has given up on _Dean_. Dean feels his mouth wobble and tears track hotly down his face.

It's the worst thing in the world to be separated from a loved one- to be alone and unloved is Dean's secret worst nightmare, and he's starting to figure out that Cas has _truly_ left him. All that's left of Cas is his _shell_ , the "it" that Sammy was referring to.

Dean balls his hands into fists and knuckles them against his wet eyes, letting out a gusty breath. He tosses and turns in bed, and buries his face in the pillow that's steadily getting wetter with his tears. He exhausts himself in this way and eventually does fall asleep only to wake up to the sound of agonised screaming and white-hot light.

'Dean,' Amara says. 

Dean, still half-blinded and disoriented, can only hear the deep displeasure in her throaty voice.

The screaming stops and is replaced by pained breathing.

Dean looks up and stares at "it".

"It" is pinned like a broken butterfly to the side of a spray-painted boxcar in the middle of some kind of cavernous warehouse, and "its" head is hanging low- Amara's chewtoy, the ragdoll whose head Dean imagines Amara would like to twist off.

Dean's... _compartmentalising_ this situation because if he even thinks that that's _Cas_ in there- well, the very thought of it would knock Dean out cold. So, yeah, "it".

Amara glides over to Dean and places an imperious palm under Dean's chin and lifts. Dean stares up into her brown eyes and freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

Amara's mouth is turned down into a moue of disapproval, 'Why are you here?'

Dean can only stare at her with wide eyes and Amara considers him closely before she clucks, fingers sweeping across his cheeks and stopping when she feels the dried track of tears.

'What is this?' she asks Dean curiously. 'What is it that has cause to make you sorrow like this?'

Both Dean and Amara do not startle when they hear the raspy rattle of laughter behind them.

Lucifer's sharp expressions have been blunted by the onslaught of Amara's torture but the tone of his voice is ever-the-same if raspier. 'Why, Auntie Amara, were you not aware of the Most Epic Love Story the World Has Ever Seen?'

Dean watches as Amara's face darkens and sours. Dean thinks almost idly about little girls, the way they sometimes plan the perfect HEA, and about young women, the way they sometimes plan their white weddings. Amara would probably be the worst Bridezilla in the history of ever, Dean thinks idly. The kind of Bridezilla who would choke out every single one of her bridesmaids and groomsmen because she couldn't stand the competition what with Dean being an equal-opportunity bi.

Dean takes a moment to wonder how the stars ever aligned to make this match between him and the Darkness- _Dean's_ supposed to be the 'crazy one' in any given relationship.

Meanwhile Lucifer's monologuing about how Castiel and Dean are 'star-crossed lovers' and even quoting that obnoxious piece of scripture '-- when men began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to them, that the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves, whomever they chose'. Dean would take offence to being compared to anyone's 'daughter' but he can see how Amara's eyes are getting narrower and narrower at Lucifer until she waves a hand and Lucifer starts clawing at his throat, writhing.

'You enjoy doing that, don't you?' Dean says quietly. He's still sitting on the ground and he can't look at how Ca- "it" writhes and spasms.

Amara twists her hand and "its" feet drum against the boxcar.

'I enjoy it as much as you do, Dean- your time in Hell is known to me, your bloodlust, the utter destruction. It's why I know that we could be so suited to each other, so _bound_ , if only you could accept that part of yourself.'

Dean can't hear anything, though, through the drumming of his heart and the drumming of "its" feet against the boxcar.

Dean hears when Amara releases her hold on Lucifer and it's almost like Dean's being tortured himself because everything is starting to feel fuzzy and dissociated like Dean's compartmentalising just a little too well- divorced from the situation at hand- detached.

Into that void in which Dean is floating, comes a familiar, beloved voice, though.

'Dean,' Castiel says in a fraught-filled voice.

Dean chokes on the breath he takes in and whips his head up.

Cas' gaze is guileless and beseeching. 'Dean, _help me_.'

Dean's up on his knees and ready to spring forward- and Amara slams _Castiel_ back with a stony look in her eyes and Lucifer's screaming laughter resumes as before.

Amara's hand is still out-stretched to Lucifer but she turns her head and says grimly, 'Lucifer is the Father of Lies- you should never fall prey to such a basic subterfuge, Dean.' Amara's face twists, 'Lucifer's bag was always to _tempt_. Even now he tempts you with this- _Castiel_.'

Dean hears and doesn't hear her. His voice wavers when he says hoarsely, 'Amara, I'm beggin' you- _stop_. That's my- my _best friend_ in there and he's hurtin' and I'm beggin' y-'

The awful screaming laughter stops. Amara snaps her fingers and Dean watches _"it"LuciferCastiel_ slump forward into an unconscious, graceless heap in front of the boxcar.

Dean feels faint and he knows he's having a panic attack. Amara stares wonderingly down at him as he gulps in huge breaths, 'How did something so _fragile_ Raise me up out of the Void? How did my Brother weave such an intricately beautiful thing such as you, Dean?'

Meanwhile Dean's trying his damnedest not to pass out.

He passes out anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam talk about Cas.

Dean wakes up gasping from the nightmare- or was it a vision?- and he flails around grabbing onto the sheets and blankets of his memory foam mattress, and he knows then that he's safe in the Bunker.

The door to Dean's room slams open, rebounding off the wall and Sam rushes in with a gun in hand, yelling, ' _Dean!_ '.

Dean takes a deep, calming breath in and holds his hands up, placating, 'It's fine, Sam, I'm okay.'

Sam gives him a narrow-eyed look. 'You were screaming, Dean.'

Dean bristles and says gruffly, 'Nightmare.'

Sam lowers the gun. 'Some nightmare.'

Dean rubs his forehead and sighs. 'I think-- I think it might've been Lucifer projecting a vision.'

Sam's forehead bunches.

'Or it might have been Cas,' Dean says quietly, looking down at his hands.

Sam's eyebrows raise. 'But you _know_ it's Lucifer playing you,' Sam says shrewdly.

Dean lets out a tired sigh and closes his eyes. 'I don't know what to believe anymore.'

Dean hears Sam clear his throat as if what he's gonna confess is going to deeply embarrass the both of them. But Dean's over being embarrassed and gives absolutely no fucks, he just wants Cas _back_.

'Lucifer used to appear to me back before,' Sam says softly and Dean cracks an eye open only to see some overwhelming emotion glistening in Sam's eyes. 'He used to tempt me so much by taking on the image of Jess- he played that gig to a 'T', I was ready to do _anything_ \- before he gave up the ghost.' Sam shakes his head, 'I'm just sayin', man, that it isn't something to be cut up about: you can't go after Lucifer because _Cas_ is chained to him, and it would kill you to hurt someone you love.'

Dean feels the corners of his mouth turn downwards.

'I know you love Cas, Dean,' Sam says quietly, so _plainly_ and matter-of-fact.

Dean shrugs, fiddles and picks at the bedsheet.

Sam heaves a gusty sigh. ''wish it were a better time for us to _finally_ be talking about this: I would be _mining_ the hell out of it, jerk.'

Dean snorts and looks up. 'Bitch.'

'And I'm sorry I ever called Cas an "it", Dean,' Sam adds as well. 'I realise how it must've sounded but I never meant to be unfeeling about it- I guess to me Cas has always been a brothers-in-arms and if he wanted to pull a kamikaze warrior stunt, well, I remember how it was when I wanted to do the Trials and you just absolutely violated my free will by pulling that Gadreel stunt. I, just- we have have a difference of opinion here, Dean, and I know and love you for putting family first but I think me and Cas sometimes split over the idea of what's _just_...'

Dean's listening and his shoulders pull in tightly at the mention of the Gadreel fiasco, but a lot of what Sam is saying makes sense. 'Yeah, you 2 nerds with your 'smart choice'- you make it sound like I'm running around with my heart on my sleeve,' Dean says hoarsely and glances up at Sam again. 

Sam is looking back at him earnestly when he says, 'You have to know whatever Cas chooses to do- and coincidentally I choose to do- your happiness might not be the deal-breaker but your survival always _is_ , Dean.'

'So you both want me to have a miserable existence- it's official: you're both friggin' idiots,' Dean retorts caustically.

Sam chuckles ruefully, 'Mebbe, but you love us anyway.'

'Damn right, I do,' Dean huffs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Amara talk about Dean.

Cas is watching a satellite transmission on the television, lulled into limbo and peace. There is nothing to care about and nothing to fear here. At first, Cas had thought that he would've been in for a world of hurt but Lucifer had seemed to want to keep to a quieter sort of symbiosis.

Cas rolls his shoulders lazily and sighs.

And then-- the strangest sensation but he feels himself breaking a surface, gasping back into consciousness.

Cas blinks away the fuzziness in his head and stares once again into Amara's brown eyes. She is frowning at him and studying his face.

'I tired of Lucifer so I yanked him out of this Vessel,' Amara taps a finger against Cas' chest, 'and put him in this little trinket.' Castiel eyes the glass vial with Lucifer's Grace swirling around in it.

From that feat alone, Cas knows that Amara must be very powerful- not that that was in any doubt considering whose sister she was.

'I wanted to learn more of you, Castiel- it seems I may have underestimated you- vastly so,' Amara continues, slinging the chain of the glass vial around her finger negligently.

'It seems that Dean Winchester is beholden to you in ways that I can not overcome, nor explain,' Amara looks at him, both eyebrows raised and her mouth pulled down.

Cas will give her _nothing_ on Dean- Dean's survival is 'stone number one' as the saying goes.

Amara narrows her eyes at whatever expression is on Cas' face. 'Do you think that I wish my bondmate harm?' Amara asks and Cas wonders if her eyebrows will ever go down. Not to mention that a large part of him rankles at Amara referring to Dean as _her_ bondmate.

'Not talking much are we,' Amara prods, 'I really can't imagine how you could possibly be God's Chosen.'

Cas has stopped quirking his mouth at that particular title- Amara is sorely mistaken if she believes him to be God's Chosen. Cas is _nothing_ , he's been chewed up and spat out so many times and he is so _tired_ of being resurrected. Not for the first time, Cas begins to realise what Raphael was talking about when he described 'Paradise' and how the Angels were tired and longed for it.

Amara touches his face again and Cas' gaze is drawn back to her. 'There's something I'm obviously missing here,' Amara says musedly.

Cas remains mute, retreats inside himself because if she isn't directly threatening Dean, well, Cas doesn't really care about the rest of it.

'Dean,' Amara says quietly and Cas snaps his gaze up to hers. Amara smiles, 'I understand now- you _love_ him and that must confer something special upon you. Otherwise what are you but a plain, insipid little thing- one of the runts of my brother's litter.'

Cas growls.

'Little puppy,' Amara says laughingly.

'I can understand _your_ infatuation, Castiel, but what I simply can't understand is _Dean's_. Dean likes powerful entities- why would he chose you over _me_? It makes no sense...unless he likes your packaging better than he likes mine. I've _always_ identified as female, though, and I wouldn't change that not even for Dean. But perhaps to even the playing field, I could change yours, Castiel.' Amara gives him a shrewd once-over but Cas doesn't even bother to glare: he is indifferent to these sorts of preferences and a small part of him knows that Dean is too, though, he hides and dissembles behind his macho persona. All Dean has ever cared about is 'family' and all Cas has ever wanted in the last year or so is to firmly belong in that category.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds Cas at last.

Dean's phone buzzes and buzzes on the map table in the Bunker. Dean watches it light up with raised eyebrows.

'Huh, Crowley,' Sam says, peering over at the name on the display screen.

Dean rolls his eyes and snatches the phone up. 'Yeah,' Dean drawls into the phone and immediately Crowley's annoying voice comes through talking about how Cas- or _Lucifer_ \- is in a warehouse in Pontiac, Illinois and as Crowley rattles off the coordinates everything in the Bunker seems to light up and go crazy, klaxons blaring so hard that Dean can't hear a single thing that Crowley is saying, has to drop the phone to cover his ears.

Dean watches as Sam dives for some sort of kill-switch for the Bunker's alarm system.

Sam finds it and the lights and sounds stop. Sam turns to look at Dean and they exchange a 'What the Hell was that about?' look before Dean reaches down for his phone from where he's dropped it. He scoops it up only to find that Crowley is _still_ talking. '--heard tell from some demons in the area that there's some powerful angel batsignal in the area and I can only assume it's Lucifer and Amara having a showdown!'

Dean feels all the hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

'You need to be here _now_ ,' Crowley snaps.

'I don't need to be anywhere on _your_ say-so, Crowley,' Dean sneers into the phone even while he's furiously thinking of the quickest way to get to Pontiac. To get to _Cas_. 

'Oh, _pardon me_ ,' Crowley sneers right back, 'I didn't think you were quite so heartless as to leave your _buddy_ twisting in Amara's clutches--'

'How do you know it's _Cas_ that's gettin' the beat-down? It could be Amara that's getting her ass handed to her,' Dean says quickly, all hostility gone as his blood runs cold at the thought of Cas being brutalised by Amara.

'I _don't_ ,' Crowley snaps. 'But you better get your ass down here, Winchester- unless you're planning on hedging on Castiel's chances.'

The phone goes dead and Dean looks up into Sam's grim face. They share a glance and take off to their respective rooms to pack and haul ass to Illinois.

\-----

With Lucifer bottled up like a genie in Amara's glass vial, there is only Castiel for Amara to toy with. Castiel wishes he could say that he never knew agony like this but Heaven's persuasion is not dissimilar to Amara's searing torture. Castiel feels his vessel fraying under the onslaught: it is a wonder that Amara has not torn it asunder already, disfigured what she deems Dean to be attracted to.

Her threats to change Castiel's body into another gender, another species, an inanimate object had not proven to be as pleasurable to her as scarring his vessel. Cas is pinioned, his head hanging and breaths coming in ragged pants when she releases him from inexorable agony.

The Darkness is _hateful_. But Castiel would be more intimidated if he didn't also know that what drove her rage was her _pettiness_.

He hears her stalking away and he groans quietly at the brief escape from her torture. He feels the absence of Lucifer keenly not least because Lucifer had absorbed the brunt of Amara's torture before he had been forcibly purged from Castiel's vessel.

A part of Castiel is surprised that Lucifer had shielded Castiel from the pain; he had thought Lucifer would only be capable of looking out for number one. Yet Castiel had felt a laconic sense of kinship from Lucifer: Castiel himself had felt extremely wary about sharing in the sentiment, suspecting that it was a ruse to lure Castiel into a false sense of security...not that Castiel had ultimately cared one way or the other- he hadn't cared until Amara couldn't seem to stop invoking Dean's name. 

What was it about Dean that constantly seemed to pull Castiel back from the edge? Castiel knew enough about himself that he loved Dean, and he wanted to see Dean happy and barring that he wanted to see Dean _safe_. And Dean would _never_ be safe with Amara around.

Someone had to lock the Darkness away again and since Lucifer had not been able to manage that, Castiel could not be assured that Dean would be safe. Castiel knew that he was expendable but he was not so fargone as to think he was _needlessly_ expendable- there had to be a _reason_ behind laying his life on the line.

Now Cas was pinned up here feeling useless and thwarted and so damned exhausted.

The very _> last_ thing he wanted to hear right now was Dean's voice hissing, 'Cas!'

At first, Castiel thought he was hearing things so he didn't react but then he heard racing footsteps and he looked up-

\- straight into Dean's green eyes.

Dean grabbed Cas' face and Castiel stared into Dean's momentarily grief-stricken expression before Dean's face hardened with resolve. 'We're getting out of here, Cas, we're goin' home.'

Cas fought against a deep sense of deja vu at those words, and he could feel his whole body shaking under the stress of being held under Amara's invisible bonds. At the same time he could also feel so much _anger_ , enough to make the top of his head feel like it was going to come off.

'What are you doing here, Dean?' Cas asked angrily, his voice roughened and raspy from Amara's torture.

Dean looked at him like _Cas_ was the crazy one.

'Savin' your dumb ass,' Dean said just as furiously.

'And planting _your_ dumb ass in Amara's path was the best plan you could come up with?' Cas retorts sharply, only to wince in pain a moment later.

Dean's face immediately changed from narrow-eyed indignant fury to round-eyed concern at Cas' pain. Of course, right about then is when Amara decided to sweep back onto the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and comments make me smile!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Castiel's worth becomes known.

Amara stares at Dean impassively even as she waves her hand imperiously at Castiel.

Castiel is immediately blanketed in- _Nothingness_. It goes so far beyond sensory deprivation to the point of being _expended_ , teetering on the brink with all of the awareness of the insignificance of his existence weighing down on him- the _Abyss_ that he wants to topple into.

But _Dean_ , a small part of Cas cries out. He can't leave Dean to fight Amara alone.

\-----

Castiel can't feel it but Dean edges away from Amara and back towards where Castiel is hanging until he's bumping his back against Castiel. In Dean's hand, the Amulet swings back and forth like a beacon.

Amara notices it, of course. Dean watches as a fiendish smile appears on her face.

'So my Brother finally decided to make an appearance? And he chose to show himself to _you_ ,' Amara says in a strange voice. 'What is it about you, Dean, that draws us all in like moths? I almost despaired when I found out my Brother had bestowed his blessing on that ridiculous puny angel nailed up there behind you. Then again my Brother made _you_ , Dean...so I might not torture my Brother quite as much as I'd planned to.'

Dean ignores all of this monologuing, and his voice trembles when he speaks, 'You let him go, Amara! Take me instead- I'm who you really want, right?'

Amara grins wolfishly and twists her hand.

The snapping noise at Dean's back startles him and he turns to see Cas' head bent at a strange angle: Amara had snapped Cas' neck. For moments, Dean thinks that Cas will heal himself and Dean _wills_ Cas to hurry the fuck up about it and stop fuckin' around? But Cas hangs there like that and Dean's _waiting_...'Cas?' Dean whispers finally, and, fuck, his voice sounds _broken_.

'Tired little angel- Grace all used up and I reaped what was left of it,' Amara says drily at Dean's back as she twiddles a shining glass vial at Dean.

Dean sees her motion a hand and Castiel slumps out of his bonds and down onto the floor. Dean is close enough to see he's dead. He's too bloody to be anything else. Too still. His legs are all tangled up. Dean reaches for Cas only to have Amara sweep past him and reach forward towards Castiel and Dean sees _red_. 'Don't you _ever_ touch him again,' Dean snarls, and he doesn't know what's broken the connection between him and Amara but he no longer feels beholden to her, there is so much _hatred_ in every fibre of his being...Dean stares down at the Amulet still swinging his grasp and back over at Castiel's broken body: Dean doesn't even have to think about what broke his connection to Amara anymore and he grabs at her wrist, viciously tightening his hand around it.

Amara's eyes are wide and startled for a moment before her expression becomes furious.

'You should think carefully about what you're doing here, Dean,' Amara says threateningly as Dean holds onto her wrist. But Dean's not listening anymore- there's something about the _Amulet_ that's working it's power here, so that Dean can wrench the arm of God's _sister_ back and arrest her. He's pretty sure the Amulet is _not_ a Hand of God but it still carries that blinding spark and, although, _Lucifer_ was not able to wield a Hand successfully against Amara, there's always been another one of God's Sons around, one who's always stood by Dean's side-

Dean stares down at Cas' body once more and his vision blurs even while he holds Amara immobile with one hand. 

'Boo hoo hoo,' Amara hisses and Dean startles. Amara's face has twisted into a spiteful, nasty expression as if she's come to the same realisation about Castiel as Dean as. 'Like I told Castiel, I just don't understand my Brother's taste in men.'

Dean punches her. It hurts like hell and serves no purpose but it feels good to _react_ to her for once instead of feeling like he's in a trance around her.

All Dean wants to do in this moment is gather Cas up and tuck Cas against himself; all Dean wants to do is wake up from this nightmare where Cas is _dead_.


End file.
